


#Hottest_Bean_Curd_Seller

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band), 极限挑战 | Go Fighting! (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 16:00:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5546378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yixing is focused on not burning down his cousin’s bean curd stall for the second time, Show Luo is focused on how amazing Yixing looks in a tank top.</p>
            </blockquote>





	#Hottest_Bean_Curd_Seller

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for reLay fic fest.

If someone had told him five years ago that he would be running through the streets of Taipei, clutching his money in an iron grip while juggling a cell phone in his other hand so he wouldn’t miss a single berating comment, he would have laughed at them. Show Luo, he would explain, didn’t run - unless he was at a gym. Show Luo, he would have added, has assistants fetch him things, not the other way around. 

A lot had happened in five years. 

“Six. No- make it seven!” The voice boomed from the other end of the phone. He recognized the tone, the biting edge to the words. Sun Honglei was not happy which meant he had his work cut out for him. 

“Seven? How about eight?” Show Luo snaked his way through a crowd of students, nearly knocking a few of them over as he rushed towards the closest bean curd stall he could think of. 

“Tell him to buy nine!” It was a faint shout from the other end of the line, but Show Luo was used to listening for it. Huang Bo, the co-pain-in-the-ass of his life was barking out his own orders.

“Which is it?! Six, Eight?! Can you be clear about something for ONCE?!” He stopped running, screaming into the phone. It was moments like this when he could hear his father’s voice in the back of his head-

_You won’t get anywhere if you don’t learn how to treat people with respect._.

Click. The phone went dead, Show Luo exhaling sharply. He counted to ten, eyes closed, as he stood in the middle of the busy thoroughfare. Breathe, breathe, serenity now, serenity now. Snapping his eyes open he bolted, pushing past a businessman on his cell phone, narrowly missing a woman with a baby carriage. He would buy twelve- Honglei and Huang Bo be damned. 

 

 

Yixing fiddled with his apron strings, pulling them tightly around his middle as he tied a double knot. He smoothed the front of his apron and approached the vat of oil, checking and rechecking that the oil was at the appropriate level. He took a deep breath, willing his nerves away. He could do this, he could totally do it. It was only for a week, right?

Pulling on a pair of rubber gloves, Yixing crouched down and retrieved the large container of tofu. Luhan had said it was ready to fry, it had been fermenting in brine for two weeks. The long fermentation period was the key to Luhan’s secret stinky tofu recipe (a secret Yixing was sworn to uphold under threat of death or a really hard punch to the arm or something). It wasn’t that Yixing was about to reveal something as important as the secret recipe, not when he owed his cousin for so much already. 

When Luhan had called his cousin two weeks ago and told him he was going out of town for a week on a romantic vacation with his boyfriend, Xiumin, Yixing waited with baited breath for a follow up question. After a few awkward seconds of silence Luhan had asked Yixing to run the stall while he was gone and Yixing had agreed immediately. Then panic and anxiety set in, thanks to what had happened four years prior. 

Yixing hadn’t meant to burn down Luhan’s last tofu stall, really. He had no intentions of being so distracted that he forgot to watch the oil. He had no intentions of panicking when flames began climbing up the side of the stall and he most certainly had no intentions of forgetting where the fire extinguisher was. Glancing at the corner of the stall, he noted Luhan’s rebuilt food stand had three fire extinguishers now. He wouldn’t forget. This was his second chance and he wouldn’t let his cousin down. 

Taking one last deep breath he put on the heat to the fryer. It would take about twenty minute before the oil was hot enough to fry the tofu, just enough time to cut up the brined tofu and throw it in the basket. He was halfway through cutting the pieces of stinky bean curd when his very first customer arrived. He wiped his hands on his apron and plastered on a polite smile. “Welcome to-“

“I need 12 skewers. NOW!” The man looked to be in his thirties, dressed in a nice suit, well-groomed with a slightly chubby face and big eyes. Probably one of the thousands of salarymen that worked in the area any given weekday. 

“I am sorry, sir, the wait will be about,” Yixing checked the small clock on the inside of the stall, “Fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes?!” The man puffed out his cheeks, shaking his head furiously. “No, no, no. That won’t do. I need them now.”

“I am really, terribly sorry but the oil isn’t warm yet.” Yixing didn’t like working in a customer-facing field for this reason. He was rather shy around customers, especially upset ones. If it wasn’t for the memory of Luhan in tears, a burnt stall greeting him for his return four years prior, Yixing would be nowhere near the bean curd stall. Instead he would be basking in the remainder of his summer break before returning to China and his full time gig as a music theory student. 

“Listen, how much do you want? A hundred? Two hundred? Name your price.” The man pulled out his wallet. A thick wad of bills jutted out of the billfold. 

“Sorry, sir. It isn’t about money, I simply can’t cook them right now.” Yixing was beginning to worry that the man would lose his temper even more than he already had. His face was red and his eyes bulged. 

“Give them to me raw.”

“Pardon?” Yixing knew people who ate the stuff raw, but he wouldn’t recommend it. Especially not the kind that Luhan served. The effects of the week’s long fermentation turned the tofu a deep color of green. The taste was overpowering if eaten without cooking it first. 

“You heard me.” The man nodded with his head. “Raw, I want it raw.” Clapping he added, “Hurry. HURRY! OR ARE YOU DEAF? DO YOU NEED ME TO SPELL IT OUT FOR YOU? DRAW YOU A FREAKING PICTURE?”

Yixing stared blankly at the man for a moment. “Sir, I really don’t think you want to eat this raw, it is rather strong and-“

In a flash the man reached over the counter, dropping some money. He snatched up two handfuls of tofu and subsequently turned around and ran. Yixing watched him go, his mouth forming a perfect o at the antics of his very first customer. He barely had time to be surprised when two women walked up the counter. 

“One skewer each, please.” One of the women followed her order up with a giggle, holding her hand over her mouth as she laughed.

“Ah, sorry it will be-“

“Fifteen minutes, that is fine. We will wait.” The other woman smiled brightly, a complete three sixty from Yixing’s first customer. After a grateful smile, he went back to chopping up the tofu. It wasn’t until he was dropping the cubes into the frying basket that he noticed one of the women discreetly taking a picture of the booth. 

 

 

“Get me a bowl. No, two!” Show Luo barked the order at the hapless secretary. His hands felt disgusting as he held the green, slimy, fermented tofu. The secretary was fast, darting off and appearing with two bowls in less than a minute. Show dropped the tofu cubes in the bowls. He held up his hands and grimaced at the sight of the green slime coating his fingers. 

“Wet wipe?” The secretary held up a pack of wipes, smiling.

“Where are they?” Show didn’t want to know, not really,

“With your parents.” Wang Xun, a longtime secretary at the Show Family’s corporation, pointed towards the boardroom.

“Of course they are.” Show narrowed his eyes. He cleaned off his hands and dropped the used wet wipe on top of the packaging. “If I don’t come out in ten minutes pull the fire alarm.”

“Go get ‘em, pig.”

“What did you say?” Show quirked an eyebrow, turning towards the secretary.

“I said go get ‘em tiger.” Wang Xun flashed his familiar toothy grin. He didn’t stick around to see if Show had anything else to say (or question). Clutching the package of wet wipes he returned to his desk. That was the thing about tenured staff, Show thought. They never really listened when they didn’t want to. 

He grabbed the two bowls of raw stinky tofu and proceeded down the long hallway towards the boardroom. The office was all wood and marble, wide open spaces and oversized floral arrangements. Impressive was usually the word used to describe the place; it had to be, the corporation supported some of the largest companies currently operating in the global marketplace. Show used his shoulder to push the door open, plastering a smile on his face as he strolled into the room.

“Mom, Dad.” Show nodded towards his parents before acknowledging the two senior directors who were also present. “My dear,

_wise_.

, company seniors.”

“He never fails to suck up when it counts.” Huang Bo, arms crossed, leaned back in his chair. “Truly a remarkable talent when he was screaming at Honglei on the phone only fifteen minutes ago.”

“It was so bad I had to hang up on him.” Honglei confirmed Huang Bo’s statement, adding a wink. That was the problem, the two senior officers of his family’s company – aside from his mother and father- were playful. They teased more than they yelled – but when they yelled it was a nonstop torrent, a floodgate of curse words and orders until peace once again descended, as it seemingly had upon the boardroom. Show’s parents found their actions endearing and completely warranted. They had said so more than once, making it all that much more of a difficult situation. 

“Why is the tofu raw?” Show’s mother leaned forward, eying the bowls of bean curd that Show had set on the large table. 

Show scratched the back of his neck, taking a seat next to his father he lied. “It is the new trend, you know – raw, green, and hip.”

“Trend? Right.” Honglei rolled his eyes but grabbed a piece of tofu anyway, popping it in his mouth. 

“We need to go over the latest marketing proposal.” Show’s father was always on point, the complete opposite of his son. He handed each person a folder and began explaining the latest campaign the VP of Marketing, Huang Lei, had proposed.

Show had sat through the VP’s presentation a few days prior, but as was usually the case he was a tad bit more interested in recalling the basketball game he had lost earlier that morning at the gym than paying attention to the often complicated and forward-thinking words of the marketing VP. He tried to listen in earnest this time around, knowing that his father would be paying extremely close attention to his feedback or lack thereof. 

It had been that way for the last five years, this push and pull – an epic struggle to pay attention when all he really wanted to do was slip back into his old lifestyle and forget what happened in the conference rooms between the hours of eight and six. Five years prior life had been much less…complicated.

Show was thirty years old when it all changed, when his parents had told him he would be cut off from the family coffers unless he entered the family business. Sometimes he wondered if it had been his failed modeling agency startup that seemed like a good idea in his late twenties, or his partying when he was in his mid-twenties, or maybe it was the fact he had crashed two Ferraris before the age of twenty-three that had his parents deciding he was essentially useless. 

Whatever the final straw had been, it ended up with him acting as Sun Honglei and Huang Bo’s whipping boy – until he could prove he was deserving of an important position in his own right; which apparently had yet to occur in the last five years. Show knew very well it was largely his own fault; he kept daydreaming, ignoring presentations, and looking up Ferraris and models on his phone during meetings. Still, it wasn’t all bad. He had his own office and Wang Xun listened to him sometimes. Oh, and he still had money. There was that.

 

 

The noonday sun was brutal, beating off the roof of the stall. The food stand sat on the edges of the financial district, a space that was hard to come by. The fact that Luhan had even managed to build a ten by twelve foot food stall this far from a night market was a miracle- a miracle of time and place that meant the enclosed space heated up like an oven thanks to its location and makeup. 

The frying vats added at least twenty degrees to the temperature inside the stall, providing Yixing vindication for his choice of clothing. He had debated if a tank was appropriate for work, slightly afraid bubbling oil may burn his arms as it popped and sizzled during the day. Oil was the least of his worries, however, when he was dripping with sweat, using the corner of his apron to wipe his brow in between taking orders. By two o’clock he had ditched the apron, the added half layer too much for him. 

Business was booming, the line for the stall longer than Yixing had ever remembered it. He dropped by the place now and then when he was in town and he couldn’t recall ever seeing so many people waiting for their order. In between cutting up more tofu, throwing it in the fryer, and dishing it out he began to wonder if there was some sort of new business in the area or maybe a convention to account for the unusually heavy foot traffic. He thought about looking for a badge or hi-my-name-is stickers on the patrons, but he was so busy trying not to burn the stall down he had little time to look at his customers other than when he was taking their order and handing them their deep fried tofu. 

He was running perilously low on tofu by the time five o’clock rolled around – a huge problem considering the stall was open until eight. Luhan had said that one container would be enough for a normal Monday, yet two and a half were already gone and the line of customers did not seem to be letting up. If he ran out of tofu the only thing he would have to serve is pickled vegetables and he highly doubted anyone was standing in line for a measly side dish. 

It was six o’clock when the last container was emptied, five people waiting for their orders. Mustering his courage, Yixing announced loudly, “I am sorry, I ran out of tofu.”

“Do you have pickled vegetables? I will take some pickled vegetables.” A woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties darted towards the front of the line.

“Me too!” An older woman rushed forward as well, money in hand.

“I will give you three hundred dollars to take a picture with me!” A man in full business dress rushed up to the counter.

Yixing flushed at their excitement. Luhan must really be doing amazing business, he thought, considering the way people wanted to order anything and everything the shop offered. Except the photo request, that was just weird (Yixing reserved side eyeing the man and smiled for a quick picture, turning down the insane amount the man had offered him for the photo). 

By eight o’clock – closing time – Yixing had sold off the rest of the pickled vegetables and even taken a half dozen photos with well-meaning, if not somewhat odd, customers. Pulling the metal door to the stall down, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least he hadn’t burned the place down. Day one was a resounding success.

When Luhan called later that evening, Yixing reported the sales numbers in between Luhan’s perpetual distraction in the form of his boyfriend. “Sorry, Xiumin keeps- ow!”

Yixing chuckled, imagining the two men on vacation. They had been dating for two years and were nearly inseparable. – a whirlwind romance born from a strange and humorous mishap at a café. They were also usually at each other’s throats in a very playful, flirtatious manner. It made Yixing a bit lonely to watch them, to be honest, but then again he was busy with school, he didn’t really have time for a boyfriend. Hearing another giggle from Luhan reaffirmed that he didn’t have time for that sort of madness, not now any way. 

“You really sold that much?!” Luhan finally responded, the surprise evident in his voice.

“I think there must be a convention in the area or something,” Yixing reported.“I pulled a quarter of the remaining tofu out of the deep freezer just in case.”

“Good idea. Hey, thanks by the way, for running the place. But if you burn it down this time I will-“

“I won’t!”

“Sorry, I have to go. Xiumin is – hey!”

Yixing laughed. “Talk you to tomorrow. Have fun!”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks again!” Click.

Yixing cradled the phone for a few seconds, happy that his cousin was happy. Now on to day two. 

 

 

Show strolled into the office like he owned the place, because hopefully someday he would. Tuesday was another day, and so far he had yet to be directed to pick up Honglei’s dry-cleaning or go scouting for rare abalones for Huang Bo’s breakfast. So far, so good. 

“Morning.” Wang Xun had an unusually smug look on his face as Show passed his desk, causing the younger man to pause and backtrack.

“Morning?” Show stared at the secretary, waiting. When Wang Xun feigned being busy, he slapped a hand down on his desk. “What is it?”

“What is what?” Wang Xun asked innocently.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Show narrowed his eyes, knowing the secretary too well to believe that he wasn’t hiding some juicy secret. 

“My dear, favorite pig, I would never hide anything from you.” Wang Xun spoke slowly, raising his cell phone as he finished speaking. Show leaned forward, slightly horrified at whatever Wang Xun had to show him. 

“It’s the bean curd seller from yesterday.” Show recognized the picture, the same man who so politely had told him that there was no way in hell he could have fried tofu in under fifteen minutes. “What is this?” Show snatched Wang Xun’s phone, scrolling down. It was a blog post with an insane amount of hits. 

“Hot bean curd seller is trending nationwide. The kid seems to have quite the online following.” Wang Xun tapped at the phone in Show’s hand. “Though that isn’t all.”

Show kept scrolling down through picture after picture of the man he had snatched the tofu from. Show had to admit he was good looking – okay, he was downright hot. Dressed in a tank, some pictures showing him lifting up his shirt to wipe his sweat like some sports model, other shots showing him with customers with blurred out faces, the man deserved to be a viral star. Show wondered how he had missed that when he snatched the tofu the day prior.

“See it yet?” Wang Xun inquired, the annoyingly knowing expression still playing on his face.

“See what?” Show reached the end of the blog post, ready to hand the phone back he froze when he saw the linked story. Oh..shit.

“IN MY OFFICE NOW!” Show’s father’s voice boomed through the hallway.

Show cringed, gripping the phone tightly. His father would have his head.

 

 

Yixing was starting to wonder how Luhan handled the heat. He was half tempted to strip his shirt off, anything to alleviate the scorching temperature in the stall. It didn’t help that he was always at the front of the small space where the fryers were located, the orders coming fast and furious for a second day in a row. He had barely had the stall open for an hour and he was already fretting over if he had enough bean curd to finish out the day.

“What do you think of Show Luo?” The customer was a twentysomething man dressed in a crisp button down and slacks. He had ordered half a dozen skewers and seemed to want a side conversation with his order. Too bad Yixing wasn’t following.

“Who?”

“The son of Show Corp.” The man pointed down the street. “That big building there.”

Yixing craned his neck out of the stall enough to see where the man was pointing. It was one of the taller skyscrapers in the financial district. “I don’t know him.”

“Didn’t you wait on him yesterday?” The man eyed Yixing suspiciously. “I saw it on the news.”

“You must be mistaken.” Yixing was starting to believe the sweltering heat was affecting the man as much as it was affecting him. He most certainly wasn’t on the news- that was crazy talk.

“No, I swear I saw it this morning. Hold on.” The man pulled out his cell phone, fiddling with the device. He held it up for Yixing to see. The angle of the sun made the surface of the phone a black hole, Yixing couldn’t make anything out on the phone. Knowing it was likely all a mistake he felt confident in proclaiming once again, “I have never met him.”

The man looked disappointed as he slipped his phone back into his pocket, returning to waiting for his order. After handing the man his fried tofu, Yixing felt a bead of sweat drip down his face. Lifting his tank he wiped the corner of his shirt across his forehead. He paused when he heard several people in line make in “Ahhh” sound. Afraid something had happened Yixing leaned out of the booth, asking, “Is everyone okay?”

“More than okay!” A woman shouted from the line. 

Yixing smiled, happy to hear that those waiting to order were not in any peril. Finding himself engrossed in the routine of cut, fry, and serve once again, he barely noticed the approaching ruckus until it was nearly upon him. 

“Show Luo!” A high pitched shout from one of waiting customers was Yixing’s first indication something was going on. He looked up from the fryer in time to see a throng of people approaching, a strange mass moving in tandem, slowly and purposefully. He barely had time to realize they were coming his way before they closed in on the stall, a small herd of humans circling the already tight space. Then he saw the cameras, the reporters, and the man. His first customer.

“Hello.” A flashy smile, perfectly coiffed hair. “You may remember me from yesterday.”

“I…” Yixing stared at the man, recognizing him as the customer who had snatched the raw tofu from the counter. He was extremely confused why the man was currently standing in front of the stall, a throng of reporters surrounding him. 

“I am sorry if I was rude, truly.” Another wide smile. “I wanted to stop by and offer up my services. If you need help I would be more than willing to offer my humble labor in exchange for the grave offense I committed yesterday,.”

Grave offense? Humble labor? Yixing had to focus for nearly thirty seconds before he realized he wasn’t hallucinating from the heat nor was the man on any type of drug- at first glance, anyway. 

“I am Show Luo, sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.” The man extended his hand, Yixing shaking it. “Will you accept my help at your amazingly humbl- amazing food stand? Free of charge, of course.”

Free of charge. As in no salary? Yixing couldn’t approve such a deal, he wasn’t the owner of the stall after all. He was the cousin attempting not to burn the structure to the ground in seven days – definitely not a decision maker. “I don’t own this stall and-“

The man leaned over the counter, whispering, “Say yes and make them go away.”

Yixing looked out towards the reporters; his gesture had Show Luo squeezing his hand painfully. Yixing realized they had never broke their handshake after the pain started to course up his arm, a dull ache as he rested his elbow on the warm plastic counter. “Just say YES.”

“Um…I…yes?” Yixing was so confused, only able to focus on how much better his hand felt now that it wasn’t in the man’s vice grip, Show dropping his hand a millisecond after he uttered his agreement. 

“Sir, what did you feel yesterday when Show Luo was verbally assaulting you?” A reporter yelled from the crowd.

“Did you recognize Show as the playboy heir of the-“

“No time for questions! We have nothing further to say.” A man stepped in front of Show Luo, shielding him from the din of cameras, their shutters opening and closing in rapid fire. Yixing stepped back in the enclosed space, feeling like he needed to move himself as far as he could from the madness unfolding in front of his cousin’s tofu stall. Stumbling into a tofu container he grabbed the heavy plastic bin, lifting it up to the small workplace. He grabbed a knife and started cutting. He didn’t dare turn around, perplexed at what was happening and how he should feel about it. 

After chopping up a quarter of the container Yixing heard the crowd begin to dissipate, a strangely empty feeling as the chattering line of customers disappeared alongside the reporters. When he did dare turn around he found the stall nearly surrounded by people in suits, his first customer leaning across the counter, watching him. 

Yixing stilled, staring back. “May I help you?”

“I will be candid, now that the reporters are gone.” Show Luo observed the timid tofu seller, seemingly curious how he would respond now they weren’t being watched. “I messed up by being a complete and total dick to you while someone filmed it. You, apparently, are some sort of internet hunk that is driving in mad business. I am the child of parents who do not like their son to be on the news for being a dick to a tofu seller. In short, I need to pretend like I am helping you for a few days and we can go our separate ways and forget about everything. Cool?”

“Isn’t that a plot of a drama?” Yixing tilted his head to the side, trying to remember one of the shows his mother was always gushing about. There was usually some rich jerk and-

“No!” Show Luo protested. “Just tell me I can help out, throw me a uniform or something, and let’s bask in your internet glory, eh?”

It dawned on Yixing that the man was proposing something that was mostly one sided. Sure, he could use help in the stall but from what the man- Show Luo or whatever his name was- explained he wanted to help out because he was in trouble. Plus he had lied about Yixing being an internet phenomenon or something, so he probably deserved a counter offer. 

“How much will you buy?”

“Excuse me?”

“I asked how much tofu you will buy if I let you help out here?” Yixing crossed his arms, waiting.

“You want ME to PAY YOU for working here?!” The man guffawed, pounding his fist on the counter in an action that had Yixing jumping from the sheer surprise of the loud thump. 

“Piggy, calm down!” A man leaned in towards Show Luo, grabbing his arm. “Remember what your dad said.”

The words seemed to calm the man, sucking in a breath he spoke. “One hundred. I will buy one hundred skewers. Deal?”

“Deal.” Yixing extended his hand to the man. The man took the offered hand, his handshake much less powerful this time around.

 

 

Show Luo watched Wang Xun walk away, half tempted to reach his arm out at the retreating figure and cry. Now he was alone. With the bean curd seller. Alone.With.The.Bean.Curd.Seller.

“Here’s an apron.” The seller- Yix something, Yix…Yixing, passed a black apron over. “You can start by sectioning the pickled vegetables into serving sizes.” Yixing pointed at a white bucket, a large metal scoop sticking out of the pail. 

Show clenched his fists, counting to ten. Serenity now, serenity now. He had spent the last five years doing anything and everything Honglei and Huang Bo told him to do. He thought that was the epitome of a bad time, but apparently he was wrong. Once his father had learned of his verbal spat with the bean curd seller he was given a choice- which was much more a command than any kind of open discussion. Make it right. Earn good press and then maybe he wouldn’t end up being taken out of the family register for being so downright useless. 

If only he could find whoever had filmed the encounter on their cellphone, he would deliver a punch or a lawsuit. Damn people and their cell phone cameras. Damn bean curd seller. Damn…

“We have a customer.” Yixing was cheerful, pointing towards the approaching woman. “Do you want to wait on them?”

“Wa…it on them?” Show sucked in a deep breath. Serenity now. Serenity now. Serenity now. 

“I will be right here, if you are nervous about it.” Yixing flashed a smile, a single dimple appearing as he gestured for Show to step up to the counter. The older man dragged his feet, as much as he could in the small space.

“May I help you?” Show flashed a very fake smile, cursing his life as he stared at the middle aged woman.

“Oh.” She looked surprised. Peeking around Show she stuttered, “Is…he not waiting on customers?”

Of course, she wanted the hot bean curd seller. 

“I am right here! Ge-ge is able to take your order as well.”

Ge-ge? When had he become his Ge-ge? Show nodded, his actions so hard and fast they came off as forced- which they were. “I can take your order.”

The woman appeared completely put out by the suggestion. “I can come back later-“

“Do you want a picture with him?” Show offered, knowing full well she had only come to the stall to see the trending internet hunk.

Yixing seemed taken aback, nudging Show in embarrassment. “I am sure she doesn’t-“

“Yes.” The woman blushed, shutting up Yixing.

“Great, you have to order first.” Show, for all of the times he could be a complete and total slacker, was a businessman first and foremost.

“Oh, yes. Of course. One skewer” The woman brushed her hands through her hair as though she was tidying up for the imminent picture. 

Yixing dropped the tofu in the oil then stepped out from the booth where he shyly posed for a friendly picture with the woman- a picture that Show obligingly took with the woman’s cell phone. After a great many mumbled “thanks” and “you are so much more handsome in real life” the woman took her order and left.

“I really don’t understand why anyone would want a picture with me.” Yixing mused as he watched the woman walk away.

Show laughed. “Someone is full of them self.”

“What? No?!” Yixing waved his hands in front of him in protest. “I don’t understand- honestly. I think my cousin may have been offering photos with customers or something. I am only watching his stall for the week. The customers must be used to the service.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Show couldn’t believe it. The sexy bean curd seller, toned arms and tanned skin glistening with sweat had no idea he had become a viral sensation?

“Know what?”

Show smirked. Perhaps helping out at the stall was a godsend- a few days away from running errands – a few days faced with the most naïve internet sensation he could imagine. Suddenly the situation seemed fun.

“Nothing. I was just being weird. When you get to know me you will find out I do that a lot.” Show winked, feeling an excitement he hadn’t felt in a long time.

 

 

The steady stream of customers was mind boggling, considering the deep fried bean curd wasn’t

_that_.

amazing, at least in Show’s opinion. He had tasted much better, however, it wasn’t the food bringing the customers in, that much was certain. 

How Yixing remained oblivious to the women and men snapping pics of him as he stood over the fryer was beyond Show’s comprehension. How could you not notice the attention? The ohs and ahs as he lifted his shirt to wipe his brow, giving everyone a free show of perfectly sculpted abs…seemed completely lost on the naïve bean curd seller. 

“Do you work out?” Show chanced, leaning over Yixing as he dropped bean curd chunks into the fryer.

“Work out?” Yixing seemed perplexed. “I used to, not so much anymore.”

“Oh.” Show smiled. “Just curious.”

He went back to waiting on customers, taking their money as they ogled the younger man in the grey tank top. Show realized business was booming, he wouldn’t doubt that the simple food stall was taking in several thousand a day. Amazing, considering the type of business. 

Show barely noticed the day pass – shocked when Yixing nudged him and said, “One hour until closing.”

He could scarcely believe it- he had been working for the last eleven hours counting the time he had spent in the office being chewed out by his father. Yet it didn’t feel like he had been working that long, even if he had spent most of the day on his feet taking money from customers who wanted little more than to stare at the sexy young man tending the fryers. 

Several times during the day Show had stopped customers from outright harassing Yixing over his internet phenomena status, wanting to keep the man in the dark for as long as possible. Maybe it was continued fascination at how naïve a person could be, or maybe it was a bit of amusement – whatever it was Show found himself shushing those who wanted to reference the sexy bean curd seller moniker. “Be nice, he takes pics if you are less..creepy, yunno?”

His tactic seemed to work, women and men alike smiling innocently for the camera – Yixing never leaving his spot at the fryer – a picture without close contact. A memento that they had been there and done that without disrupting the fast and furious pace of the business. 

When eight o’clock rolled around Show found himself turning away the last two customers with an over the top apology. As he slammed the metal door to the stall shut he felt a good deal of relief. 

“You did great, Ge-ge.” Yixing smiled brightly, scraping up the last bits of tofu that clung to the cutting board. 

“Really?” Show felt a sense of pride, even if he considered that the feeling was probably misplaced. He really needed to remember he was hocking bean curd as a PR stunt, not actually working towards any meaningful goal. 

A ringtone, shrill and annoying, sounded. It was Honglei. Taking his phone out, Show ignored the call.

“Was that someone important?” Yixing raised an eyebrow, his expression hovering between curiosity and concern.

“No.” Show dragged his hand through his hair. “What should I do now?”

“You can wipe down the counters.” Yixing spoke as he worked. He picked up a container of tofu and bent over to place it in the bottom compartment. 

Show didn’t mean to. He really didn’t have an option. It was right in front of him, in a closed space no less. He completely and totally didn’t have a chance to look away – no, not at all. Yixing had a nice ass. A really nice ass, the curve accentuated by the tan cargo shorts.

“There is a rag in the top drawer.” Yixing looked over his shoulder, probably wondering why Show was standing so still, a dead look on his face.

“Thanks!” Show had never wanted to wipe a counter so much in his life. Damn Yixing had a nice ass. Damn.

 

 

Yixing watched the curious man wipe the counter tops again and again and again and – finally he interrupted him. “I think it is clean, Ge-ge.”

“Oh.” Show clutched the rag, staring around the stall.

Yixing wasn’t sure what to think of his new helper. Obviously the man was self-serving, a moneyed heir out to clear his name (Yixing had managed to look the man up online during a minute or so break during the day, learning he was the only heir to a fortune that Yixing couldn’t even conceive). Still he seemed genuine as he had helped throughout the day…

Or perhaps it was a false front. The entire situation was so bizarre Yixing wasn’t sure what to think of it. 

“Are you going to be here tomorrow?”

“Yes.” Show leaned against the counter. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Ha. You are having that much fun?” Yixing was still feeling an immense amount of stress, between trying not to burn the place down, serve the never ending line of customers, and posing for pictures (he seriously needed to recommend that Luhan discontinue this service, he had no idea how he did it on a daily basis while manning the stall single handedly).

“Something like that.” The older man rushed forward as Yixing started to lift a heavy tub of oil, helping him carry it. “Do you go online a lot?”

Yixing considered the question. Was the man afraid he had read about him? He had, so it was a question that had already been answered, essentially. “Sometimes.”

“You seem so tired, I mean, running the stand all day. Maybe you should take a break from things. The internet can be so toxic.”

Yixing was touched in the slightest way by the man’s concern, prompting him to ask, “Ge-ge, how are you doing? You don’t usually work like this, right?”

“I am having fun.” The older man seemed so genuine it had Yixing smiling. 

“I hope you know I wasn’t offended by your behavior yesterday.” Yixing had carefully considered the encounter and had come to the conclusion that he never was offended, only flustered, figuring the man had good reason to be so pushy at the time. After working alongside him, Yixing couldn’t help but get over any thoughts of being mad at the man. 

“Hm. Well, my parents were.” Show sighed. “They found out and well..respect and…I think I already told you.”

“Was it on the news?”

“What?!” Show seemed embarrassed, Yixing could swear he saw a slight blush creep across his full cheeks, even under the low lighting inside the stall. “Yeah. I…my parents…our company…”

“Are famous?”

“Yeah.” 

“What do you do there, Ge-ge?” Yixing was curious. Show seemed to be a rather kind, if not horribly impatient man – probably someone who was used to getting his way because he was born on the top. 

“Management things, very important business tasks.” Show moved forward, landing a playful punch on Yixing’s arm.

Yixing had guessed Show was some sort of executive and his words seemed to confirm this. “Maybe this will be like a vacation for you.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Yixing picked up on the way Show’s smile hovered in that place between happiness and despair, uneasy. It was uneasy. 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“Okay.”

Yixing watched the wealthiest man he had ever met, ever talked to, untie his apron and leave the food stall. It was a strange goodbye, an even more bizarre hello, and an all-around out of place day. On to day three, bean curd stall still free from fire. Success. 

 

 

 

“You mean he doesn’t know?” Wang Xun sputtered, nearly choking on his coffee. Show slammed his fist down on the secretary’s back, saving him from death by coffee and saving Show’s leather interior from a nasty stain. 

“And I mean to keep it that way.” Show had thought about it the night prior and had come to a most definite conclusion. Yixing was the best when he wasn’t aware of the people taking pics, when he was so engrossed in work that he couldn’t notice what ninety nine percent of the human population would pick up on – he was the center of attention. 

“Pig, you are sick or a genius.” Wang Xun laughed. “I swear, your parents don’t realize how logistical you can be.”

Show narrowed his eyes at the secretary. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you realize? You know, he doesn’t know, and everyone else knows. He is a walking advertisement for his business, and you are his manager.”

“Manager?” Show considered the word. 

“Manage him well and his stall will be amazing.” Wang Xun punched Show on the arm. “Go get ‘em, piggy.”

“Don’t call me that!” Show pouted, Wang Xun diverting his attention. “We have arrived! Now sell some bean curd, slacker.’

Show stared at the small stall, set across the plaza. Puffing out his cheeks as he exhaled he exited the car, not realizing until later he hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye to his secretary.

 

 

 

Abs. Abs. There were abs. Show hovered in the doorway, staring – boldly staring. Because…damn was that internet moniker well earned. Yixing was shirtless, standing at the counter, knife in hand, he chopped up pieces of tofu while he hummed a tune that Show couldn’t identify. The song didn’t matter. What mattered was the way that his muscles moved, the way that his back looked, so tan and lean and...

“Ge-ge!”

One positively rainbow creating, unicorn summoning greeting from Yixing and Show was questioning his life choices. All of them. 

“Hey.”

Abs. Abs were facing him. It had been too long – a year, maybe? He hadn’t gotten laid in at least a year, since his last boyfriend – the guy who broke up with him because he didn’t jive with his “spiritual energy”. Suddenly Show realized exactly how thirsty he had been. 

“It is already so hot.” Yixing sighed loudly. “I would recommend not bothering to wear the apron today.”

“Would you?” His reply was husky, perhaps a bit too flirtatious. But abs. ABS. Yixing’s blank stare sent him back to some sort of reality, hazy as it was. “You would! Great. No apron.”

“I brought more tofu today, in case.” Yixing pointed towards a stack of containers.

“Great! Wonderful!” Show was flashing thumbs up like a moron, trying his hardest not to stare, to drool. 

“Ge-ge, I am worried you might get too hot today.” Yixing stepped forward. “I want you to take breaks if you overheat.”

Show nodded, feeling his last bit of sanity slip from him as a half-naked bean curd seller approached him. “I…will rest.”

“Please do. I don’t want you getting sick.”

Dimples. Abs. Genuine concern…Show swallowed, hard.

 

 

Day three passed as the other two days had, steady business, silly requests for pictures, and like the day prior, a rather strange helper taking orders. Collapsing into bed after the long day, Yixing shot off a text to his cousin. 

“Cell reception sucks here” was the only reply he received, a good thirty minutes passing before the message came through. He imagined that Luhan was probably off hiking a forest trail, Xiumin at his side, the world at their fingertips. A nice thought…that somehow had him flashing back to the day’s events. A certain smile from a certain rich boy who wanted nothing more than to wait on customers and yell “Cheese!” when a photo was about to be snapped. Why was Show making him smile so much? And why was Show’s smile so…enticing?

He fell asleep before he could figure out how a light and breezy happiness was attached to the most unexpected assistant bean curd seller in the world. 

 

 

 

“Are you learning something?”

“You better be!”

Hong lei and Huang Bo had left him half a dozen messages, broken bits of conversation – or scolding was probably the more accurate descriptor – giving Show more reason to relish his time away from the office, heat and abs be damned. It was his third day at the stall and somehow he was looking forward to it. Somehow…

He was still suffering a major case of disbelief at Yixing’s supposed naivety towards his internet Phenom status. How could someone, in this day and age, miss the fact their picture was all over the forums, all over the-

“Ge-ge! Look!” Yixing pointed towards a paper sitting on the counter. Show leaned in, taking a good look. It was a drawing of a lamb, a haphazard price list next to it. 

“In case they miss the price list. I noticed it was kind of out of sight when you are up at the counter,” Yixing proudly proclaimed. “Do you think it is stupid?”

“No, not at all.” What bothered Show the most was that he meant it. He liked it in a d’aw how cute heart fluttering way. Damn. 

 

 

 

Yixing ended day four in the most unexpected of ways. He was almost done changing the oil in the fryers when Show pulled out the bottle.

“Drink?”

“I don’t usually drink.” Yixing wasn’t good with alcohol. When he did drink he felt it almost immediately – his face turned red as his head became fuzzy with the slightest sip. 

“A small drink to toast your success?” Show quirked an eyebrow, holding up the bottle of wine.

“Did you bring that to work?” Yixing was perplexed, not recalling seeing the bottle before.

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

He wasn’t mad, knowing Show was doing his best during the day. He had been managing the counter for the last three days with a fervor that Yixing didn’t expect out of a person forced into the situation by his bad behavior. 

“Okay.”

Show grabbed one of the plastic cups that they used for pickled vegetables, pouring a small amount for Yixing. “Bottoms up.”

He took a sip of the wine, grimacing at the dry taste. “Did you seriously bring this?”

Show shook his head, drinking his own cup of wine in one shot. “A customer dropped it off.”

“Really?! How nice of them.” Yixing would have to remember to gush to Luhan as much as possible over his customer base. They were truly amazing (though he still had a mind to question Luhan over his photo taking policy).

Show refilled his cup, eyeing up Yixing’s, which was still almost full. “It tastes good,” Yixing lied, taking another sip.

“So what do you do when you aren’t running a bean curd stall?”

Yixing set his cup down, returning to fiddle with the fryer he explained his usual lot in life. “I study music theory, I go to school in Beijing.”

“Music?” Show threw back another cup of wine, smacking his lips together as he swallowed. “Do you want to be a musician?”

Yixing nodded. “Or a composer. Or maybe a music professor. I haven’t decided yet.”

Show’s high pitched laugh had Yixing setting down the clean bucket of oil. Turning to the older man he looked at him curiously. “Ge-ge, why do you think that is funny?”

“To have the world ahead of you, not know what you want but be able to do it, kind of a funny concept if you ask me. The stuff of youth.”

“Funny?” Yixing hadn’t considered his situation as funny. “I guess it is a little funny, but Ge-ge, you are still young.”

Yixing stared at the older man, at his relaxed posture as he leaned against the counter, cheap plastic cup in hand. “Ge-ge, where did you go to school?”

“Taipei. I majored in business.”

“I bet you did well.” Yixing had learned one thing about Show in the last couple of days, and that was he seemed to have an endless amount of energy when he put his mind to something. “You are very diligent, Ge-ge, I can tell.”

“I am?” Show seemed surprised at the compliment. 

“Yes. I think so.” Yixing found himself smiling at the way Show perked up at the compliment. 

“Flatterer.” Show winked, setting his cup down on the counter he grabbed a rag. “I can wipe the counter down.”

Yixing nodded and returned to cleaning out the fryer. He found the entire exchange oddly endearing, the sight of Show Luo, relaxed and happy, giving him ideas. Ideas like how the older man was rather easy to get along with, even if his first impression was a bit of a disaster. Ideas like how the older man was probably fun to hang out with, would probably be a blast as a friend and probably give amazing hugs and – Yixing shook his head, trying to physically free his brain from such complicating and slightly confusing thoughts. 

 

 

“Evening, piggy.”

A high pitched scream escaped his lips at the unexpected intrusion. Show clutched the laptop to his chest, glaring over his shoulder at his secretary. “What are you doing here?”

“Honglei and Huang Bo sent you a present.” Wang Xun smirked, draping himself halfway over the back of Show’s sofa.

“I seriously need to change my door code.” Show continued clutching the laptop, hoping Wang Xun hadn’t seen what he was looking at. “And why did it have to be delivered now?! DO YOU PEOPLE HAVE NO SENSE OF TIME!” The sun had set, it was almost ten o’clock at night. Of course Wang Xun was still working. Show was convinced the secretary never slept, much less stopped working.

“It is time sensitive.” Wang Xun explained, pointing towards the hallway. “It is kind of big so I left it in the hall.”

“Great. Thanks, I will look at it tomorrow. Leave.” Show stood up from where he had been sitting on his sofa, laptop still in hand. “LEAVE.”

“I would almost think you don’t want to see me.” Wang Xun pouted. “Rude.”

“Bursting into my apartment unannounced is rude. NOW GO.” Show pointed towards the front door.

“Were you watching porn?” Wang Xun motioned towards the laptop.

“NO.”

“

_Right_.

. I believe you.” The secretary chuckled. “Enjoy your present, see you in the morning, piggy.”

Show gritted his teeth, watching as the secretary let himself out. Thankfully he hadn’t gotten a peek at the laptop screen. Once Show was certain Wang Xun was gone he set the computer down, a page full of pictures of the hottest bean curd seller in Taipei shamelessly displayed. He was only looking to make sure the pictures people were snapping throughout the day came out okay, that was it, he had told himself as he spent the last hour ogling Yixing in a tank top (and saving a few of the best ones for REASONS).

Curiosity mixed with dread had him creeping down the hallway to find out what was so time sensitive it required Wang Xun to drop by at night. Flicking on the hall light he found a tall and narrow box resting against the wall. The package was nearly six feet long…odd. Show ripped at the wrapping paper, realizing the shape of whatever was inside was not a perfect rectangle. As he removed a huge swath of the paper he cried out, dropping the present. 

It was a cardboard cutout of the hottest bean curd seller. A.cardboard.cutout. Cardboard Yixing stared back at him, dimples, toned arms, a grey tank top…it was made from one of the pics that a customer had shot and it might has well have been categorized as a torture device. Life size. Yixing. 

Show pulled at his hair, shouting in frustration. He rushed back down the hall and face planted into his bed. He could almost swear he heard Wang Xun laughing from somewhere outside his apartment. 

 

 

Cardboard Yixing had been covered up by towels, stashed in a corner of Show’s room, to be hidden away for all eternity. Or so Show liked to think. Hiding a cardboard cutout was easy, walking into the bean curd stall and finding Yixing shirtless for a second day in a row was hard…really hard. 

“Ge-ge!” Yixing smiled brightly as Show walked into the stall. “They said it is going to be the hottest day this summer – today!”

“That so?” Show wondered what he had done to deserve this aside from the yelling and verbal assault. Because he must have done something far worse than that to be subjected to such torture.

“I bought some sunscreen, I noticed I was a little burnt from the last few days. Amazing how that happens even with a roof over my head.” Yixing held up the white and blue bottle, shaking it playfully. “If you do my neck I will do yours, Ge-ge.”

“Ha…ha…ha…” Show turned around, bracing himself against the wall with one hand he counted to ten. Serenity now. Serenity now.

A cool touch made him jump. Yixing was dabbing on the sunscreen, his fingers surprisingly smooth and soft as he massaged the sunscreen into Show’s neck. He must have misunderstood Show’s retreat as a go ahead to start lathering on the strongly smelling lotion. When Yixing’s hand went a little lower, barely moving under the collar of Show’s t-shirt, the older man whirled around in horror. “That is good! Great. No more sunscreen.”

“Will you do me?” Yixing asked, a smile playing on his lips as he held the sunscreen bottle out in front of him.

Show considered if insanity could come upon a person within the span of thirty seconds, because he was pretty sure he needed a doctor. Maybe some sedation. “Can you get my lower back? I might work without my tank on today if it gets too hot.” Yeah, definitely some sedation.

He grabbed the sunscreen bottle, squirting some lotion on his hand, then he hesitantly went to work. Yixing turned his back to him and waited. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to touch Yixing. He wanted to touch Yixing -a lot. That was the problem. A big problem. A bunch of vivid-fantasy-scenarios problem. Lotion. Bare skin. Heat. Lots and lots of problems were coursing through Show’s mind, drowning out the few strands of common sense he had. 

Inching his hand forward he nearly recoiled when he made first contact with Yixing’s back. Serenity now. Serenity now, he repeated over and over again in his head as he massaged the lotion into Yixing’s lower back, then higher, tracing his hand over the expanse of the younger man’s shoulders and neck. His skin was smooth, his back was muscular, and god damn did Show want very much to keep touching him. 

A pounding on the stall door had Show pulling his hand back quickly.

“When do you guys open?” A voice boomed from outside.

“A few minutes, sir,” Yixing answered, turning around and snatching the sunscreen bottle out of Show’s hand. “Thanks for your help, Ge-ge.” Yixing grabbed his tank top and pulled it over his head. 

“N-no problem,” Show stuttered, looking anywhere but at the hot younger man in front of him. 

Thankfully Yixing worked with his tank on – for a few hours at least. Unfortunately for Show, the trend did not continue. It was near noon when Yixing decided to work sans shirt. He tied his apron around him for a measure of modesty, returning to the fryers completely oblivious to all of the commotion his stripping had caused with the line of customers. 

“How do you stand being near him?” One female customer asked, eyes never leaving Yixing.

“Easy. I um…” Show couldn’t tell her the truth. That it wasn’t easy and he didn’t stand it and right now he kind of wanted to push Yixing against the wall and kiss the living daylights out of him while he touched every inch of his skin. “Love to look at the customers instead.”

The woman rolled her eyes, clearly not convinced. 

 

 

Yixing marked another big red X on the calendar. Only two more days to go and he would have successfully operated the stand for an entire week without burning it down. Setting the marker down on the kitchen counter he ambled to the living room, plopping down on Luhan’s cheap sofa. He pulled out his phone. Shooting another “Everything is great” text to Luhan, he scrolled through his texts. No new messages. Luhan must really be off the grid, he thought, considering he hadn’t heard from him. It wasn’t a huge surprise considering his trip centered on a very remote region in Southern China. 

A buzz had Yixing almost dropping his phone. Clicking on the text button he saw it was from one of his college buddies from Beijing. He hadn’t heard from any one of his college friends all week, which wasn’t that unusual. They tended to be attached at the hip during the school year but during breaks each of them drifted off to do their own thing. 

Opening the text he saw it was a link. He had already used up his data limit for the month and Luhan didn’t have Wi-Fi in his apartment. Sighing at his inability to see what was at the end of the link, he texted back a vague message, receiving nothing in return. He figured the text was probably a link to a music site he forgot about it, turning instead to a question that was gnawing at him. Did Show Luo like him? Because he was starting to think he liked Show Luo – a lot, if his barely stifled reaction to having Show’s hands all over his back was anything to judge by. Was this what it was like, to want something you probably couldn’t have? Age and status and awkward first meetings dictating the rest of their relationship or lack thereof? Letting a frustrated groan escape his lips, he buried himself in his pillow.

 

 

Show saw the reporter coming from half a mile away. Okay, maybe halfway across the plaza, but still – he recognized the tabloid journalist and planted a scowl on his face the second he spotted him. He had been largely media free for the last few days, knowing full well his father had probably paid off half the stations and reporters to hold off snapping pictures of the wealthy heir selling tofu – until the final, positive and rosy story would be released by the Show family, that is. 

The reporter – Show couldn’t bring himself to call him a journalist when he wrote stories about imagined celebrity relationships and gossip – got in line. It was nearly twenty minutes before he arrived at the counter. 

“How are you finding your time as a bean curd seller, Mr. Show?” The reporter held a notepad, pen in hand, ready to scribble down Show’s answer. When he was met with silence he asked a follow-up question. “Do you think that this experience has taught you how to better control your anger?”

Show glared. “No comment.”

“Are you aware that Show Corp’s stocks dropped three percent after the video of you went viral?”

Silence.

“Are you humbled by this experience? Has the stall owner forgiven you for your ogre-ish ways?” The reporter pressed, leaning into the counter. 

Show was five seconds away from telling the reporter to buzz off or he would physically remove him, five seconds away from asserting his own distaste for the random questioning when Yixing intervened. 

“Sir, if you are here to harass one of the workers I would suggest you leave. We don’t put up with such behavior here.”

Show watched in horror as the reporter’s eyes widened, guessing what the man was thinking. “Ah, the internet sensation himself! How does it feel to be not only the most famous bean curd seller in Taipei but also the babysitter of Mr. Angry rich boy here?”

Yixing shot the reporter a frown. It was the unhappiest Show had ever seen him look and it made his chest tighten in response. “I don’t know what you are referring to, but please leave.”

“How does it feel to be famous off of your looks?” The reporter was not about to let the matter drop.

“I am not fam-“

Show cut off Yixing’s protests, leaning across the counter while he whispered something to the reporter. Yixing watched in amazement as the man hurried away.

“What did you say to him, Ge-ge?” Yixing asked, watching as the reporter nearly jogged across the plaza.

“I told him I would deep fry his dick if he didn’t shut up.” Show boasted, laughing at his own antics while leaving out the most important word he spoke – that he wouldn’t hesitate to sick Huang Bo and Honglei on the man. 

 

 

Yixing had explained to Show the first day they worked together – or maybe it was the second- Show had lost count, that he would only be operating the stall for a week’s time. Show had decided then and there that he would work alongside Yixing until he handed the stall back to his cousin, which meant they had one more day sloshing around tofu containers and dishing out pickled vegetables before they would go their separate ways. 

“Does your cousin go on vacation a lot?” Show found himself asking as they left the stall at the end of the sixth day. What he really wanted to know is if Yixing would be back, because the thought of losing contact seemed oddly depressing. 

“No, not usually. The last time was four years ago and that didn’t go so well.”

“How so?” Show found himself curious about Yixing, yet consciously skirting the slew of questions he wanted to ask the man for fear he would drive him away. A first, for Show, the fear of rejection. 

“I burnt down the stall.” Yixing explained matter-of-factly, Show snorting at the emotionless confession.

“You what?!”

“It was an accident!” Yixing protested, his hands up. “I wasn’t being careful.”

“Wow. Well, I guess you make mistakes too.” Show chuckled.

Yixing nodded. A moment of silence passed before he spoke again. “Ge-ge, are you busy for dinner? Do you want to come over? I can make you some food. You have been working hard.”

“Dinner?!” Show found his words came out as a squeak, completely uncool and unlike him. 

“If that is okay! If you are busy I understand.”

Show considered that going from one confined space with Yixing to another – this time alone and without the diversion of customers – may not be the best idea. Yet he really, really wanted to see more of the hottest bean curd seller in the city before they had to say goodbye.

“Dinner would be nice.”

“My cousin’s apartment is close, so the walk won’t be long.” Yixing hooked his arm around Show’s, pulling him along. Show braced himself for what was sure to be a torturous experience, just how torturous he had no idea.

 

 

 

 

Guilt. It was weighing on him, and things didn’t usually weigh on Show’s conscious. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Yixing learned of his status as an unlikely internet star. In fact he was shocked the man hadn’t figured it out already. Yet…there was a huge part of him that wanted to keep it a secret for one more day, let Yixing finish out his work without being self-conscious, embarrassed, or angry at all of the attention. What was a novelty a few days ago had become akin to a situation causing genuine concern. He was worried over Yixing’s feelings on the matter...how, strange. 

Yet….he was keeping something from a person who had shown him nothing but kindness, and that bothered him. If Wang Xun was there he would tease him for figuring out how to feel. Why was life so hard? Why was emoting so, not something he was used to?

“Sorry if it isn’t anything spectacular.” Yixing set the bowl of ramyun down in the middle of the table. “I added egg.”

“It’s fine.” Show hadn’t eaten ramyun in at least ten years and would normally recoil at the stuff. Normally. But Yixing had made it with sincerity and somehow he wouldn’t mind eating it. Moving a heap of steaming noodles into his bowl he began blowing on the dish. Much to his horror Yixing took the opportunity to peel off his shirt, tossing the tank over the back of the chair. “I am still hot.” He explained when he noticed Show staring at him.

Diverting his eyes back to his bowl, Show found his breath hitching at the thought of the half-naked man sitting across from him. He tried to redirect his mind and asked a silly question, one he already knew the answer to. “So tomorrow is your last day?”

“Hm.” It was more a grunt of agreement than an answer. 

They ate in silence, Show finding the noodles infinitely more interesting than eye contact with a certain twenty something- an action that would surely drive him into a fit of insanity. 

“I can take that.” Show looked up to find Yixing leaning across the table, picking up his empty bowl, an excellent view of sharp collarbones and a well-defined chest hovering only inches in front of him. Show swallowed, unable to look away. As quickly as Yixing was nearly touching him, he was gone, walking towards the kitchen. 

Serenity now. Serenity now. Show closed his eyes, counting to ten. Bad idea, a really bad idea.

“Ge-ge, you look tense. I should give you a massage.” 

Show didn’t have time to say no before Yixing was behind him, hands resting on his shoulders. Yixing started off slow, gentle touches that turned more urgent, his ministrations felt amazing as he began to work Show’s muscles. 

“Ge-ge, does this feel good?” It was nearly a whisper, Yixing speaking into Show’s left ear. It sent a shiver down the older man’s spine.

“Yi-yixing.” Show managed to get the word out, an amazing feat.

“Hm?”

“I-“ Show knew he didn’t have a filter on his mouth, he never had. That is what had gotten him into trouble for so many years. He should really keep quiet, really…truly….

Yixing stopped the impromptu massage. “Is everything okay?”

Show took a deep breath and launched into a slew of fast and furious words that he would likely regret. If only he had a filter. “Yixing, will you go out with me? On a date? Not sure if you are single but if you aren’t I will kidnap you – okay, maybe not kidnap, but really I kind of think you are hot. Okay, I think you are the sexiest piece of ass I have ever looked at and you are nice too and sweet and all of the things I am not and sorry if I am old and gross and honestly it is no wonder you have become an internet hash tag and yes that is right look up hottest bean curd seller and that is you and sorry I didn’t tell you please go out with me I will treat you like royalty and fly to Beijing once a week and buy you a puppy or twelve if you want it.”

He didn’t dare look at Yixing, afraid what he would see.

“What did you say?”

“I like you?” Show offered.

“About the internet?”

“Oh.” Show frowned. So he had probably blown it by not telling Yixing about the whole hottest bean curd seller thing. If he could punch himself in the face he would. “Hold on.” Pulling out his phone he searched the moniker, handing the device over to Yixing. He dared to look then, watching as Yixing scrolled through the page, sitting on the edge of the dining room chair, his eyebrows raised in disbelief.

“Sorry, I…didn’t want you to be self-conscious.” Show muttered, hanging his head in shame. 

Yixing didn’t respond, didn’t say he forgave him or make any kind of noise to indicate how he felt about the situation. Every second that passed had Show feeling more and more dejected over how much he had screwed up, a feeling that was nearly worse than any other time he had disappointed someone in his life. He could take his parents being mad at him, but Yixing…that did something to him. Something he wasn’t familiar with. 

Deciding he must have ruined any chance he had with Yixing, Show stood, meaning to take his leave as quietly as he could. He was halfway to the door when he heard it – the loud sound of laughter. Whirling around he found Yixing doubled over on the floor, cell phone clutched in hand. 

“Ge-ge! This is hilarious!” Yixing was nearly choking on his words as he laughed. “I am the hottest bean curd seller in Taipei?! That is why they were taking pictures!”

Yixing thought it was funny. He wasn’t mad. Yixing wasn’t mad. Show joined in with his own loud and boisterous laugh, probably overdoing it in his relief that Yixing didn’t seem to hate him. “Funny, right?”

“You still should have told me.” Yixing stopped laughing suddenly, flashing a frown.

Show nodded, growing somber. “I am sorry.”

“Maybe you should go.” Yixing pointed towards the door, Show mumbling, “You have my phone.”

Yixing stood up, walking towards Show he held out the cell phone. “Here.”

Show took the phone, stuffing it in his pocket while he turned around to leave. So this is what total and utter failure felt like? It was different than any time before, even when the modeling agency he had so haphazardly founded had floundered. Even the time his father told him he could hire a monkey to do his job. Even the time…

A pair of arms snaked around his waist, pulling him close, his back colliding with Yixing’s shirtless chest. Shocked, Show gasped.

“I was kidding, Ge-ge.” Yixing spoke into Show’s ear, breath ghosting over his cheek. 

“Ki-kkiding?”

“And you aren’t old and gross, you are kind of hot yourself.” Yixing laughed, tightening the hold on Show’s waist. “I will go out with you if you promise me one thing.”

“What?!” Show was prepared to promise almost anything within his power.

“You shouldn’t waste your money flying to Beijing every week.”

“But-“

“I can fly to Taipei every now and then too, you know.” Yixing silenced any further protests by whirling the older man around, slotting their mouths together for a deep and well-earned kiss.

 

 

 

Luhan had barely made it out of the elevator alive, which was largely his own doing. After his vacation was cut short by one day thanks to a freak storm, he had to take any and all chances presented to him in order to make up for the loss of twenty four hours of touches, cuddles, kisses, and, well – other things. When he stumbled out of the elevator at his apartment building, nearly out of breath, he could barely find the energy to lift his hand to wave goodbye to his equally exhausted, equally wrecked boyfriend. 

It was a miracle he even had the strength to find his keys. Trudging down the hall towards his apartment he had a fleeting thought of texting Yixing that he was on his way. Fleeting, because he was sure his cousin was probably sleeping and could care less. Inserting the key in the lock he pushed the door open, his heavy suitcase in hand as he struggled through the narrow doorway. 

Odd, he thought, the lights were on. The last time he checked Yixing was most definitely not a night owl, preferring to sleep before midnight. It was well past three in the morning, what could he be doing up?

“Yixing, I am hom-“ Luhan froze as he walked into his living room, the color draining from his cheeks. Later he would swear he went blind for at least thirty seconds.

A loud scream, a flurry of movements, and Luhan was whirling around to face the wall. Holy shit, did he just walk in on –

“Luhan!”

“Is that your cousin? Oh shit.”

Luhan, wide-eyed, slightly afraid, blurted out, “Is the bean curd stall still standing?!”

“YES” A chorus rang out, Luhan swallowing hard. The continued sound of clothes being pulled on, the sound of plastic hitting the coffee table, a cleanup he really didn’t want to imagine. 

“I am going to sleep over at Xiumin’s house tonight so, um, please make sure the place is clean!”

Luhan dragged his suitcase after him, pulling out his phone to text his boyfriend. Xiumin was never going to believe it, that Yixing, gentle and unassuming Yixing had been – well….Luhan needed to go bleach his brain. At least a half a dozen times.


End file.
